


Don't Give Me Ideas

by CanaryCry



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Grayson (Comics)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs in a Car, Car Sex, M/M, Missing Scene, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Sex on a Car, Spies & Secret Agents, Spyral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 02:17:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6176404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanaryCry/pseuds/CanaryCry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Going rogue is hard work. Sometimes you need a release. If that release happens to come on top of a car-tank-thing surrounded by unconscious goons, Dick could learn to work with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Give Me Ideas

**Author's Note:**

> Missing scene from Grayson #16 with some dialogue near the end lifted from the actual scene in the comic.

Dick wasn't exactly _opposed_ to having Tiger all over him on top of this tank-car-thing; he just wasn't entirely sure this was a great idea while Spyral agents lay unconscious nearby.

“You know...” he said, gasping as Tiger's teeth sank into his neck, “this is a recipe for disaster.”

“Is it?” Tiger said distractedly, a little more occupied with sliding his fingers under Dick's shirt.

“I mean, it's not like I'm not enjoying this...”

“But?” Tiger kissed the hollow of Dick's throat.

Dick dug his fingers into the back of Tiger's neck; focusing was difficult, what with all the blood rushing away from his brain. “We just knocked out a bunch of dudes.” He hissed as Tiger's fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his pants. “They're lying _right there_.”

“They are unconscious.”

“For now.”

“What use are your escrima if you never use them?”

“I use them plenty— _fuck_.” Dick bucked into Tiger's hand. “Okay, fine. But if I run out of them, you're on retrieval duty. And I'm not getting naked.”

“We will improvise,” Tiger replied, dragging down the zip on Dick's pants.

Dick fumbled with the button on Tiger's. “You see, that's what I'm afraid of.”

Tiger batted Dick's hands away and did the job himself. “I have a confession to make.”

“Is it important?”

Tiger sat back on his heels, not paying any mind to the head of his cock peeking out of his pants. “I may have laced your escrima with a knockout drug.”

Dick sat up on his elbows. “I take it you weren't trying to knock _me_ out, or you won't be getting sex ever again.”

Tiger jerked his head towards the unconscious agents. “They will be out for at least an hour.”

“You didn't think to mention this _before_?”

“I was busy.”

Dick rolled his eyes and shoved Tiger onto his back. “We could've gotten _busy_ several minutes ago if you'd told me _when you did it_. That aside, I could've knocked myself out!”

“The evening would be much quieter if you had.”

Dick jerked the waistband of Tiger's underwear down until the man's erection sprang free. “I will use teeth, Tiger. I'm warning you.”

“As long as you don't start singing again, you may do what you like.”

“Don't give me ideas.” Dick ghosted his fingers along Tiger's shaft, his touch light enough that he barely made contact at all.

Tiger shuddered. “Stop wasting time.”

Dick nipped at his earlobe. “Consider it revenge for not warning me you drugged my weapons.” He traced a line beneath the hem of the man's shirt with a finger. “Maybe if you apologised...”

“Fine. I'm sorry.”

“Okay.” Dick slid down the length of Tiger's body, grinning up at him. “Now, I've been told I'm actually quite good at this, so be sure to give yourself a few minutes to cool off afterwards before you decide you're in love with me.”

“For once in your life, Dick Grayson, use your mouth properly.”

“Oh, you're so funny. But since you asked so nicely...”

Tiger's next breath came out in a hiss. Dick funnelled a laugh into a hum around his cock instead, which had the man pounding the bonnet of the car with his fist. If Spyral had eyes on them right now—which was highly likely—they would be getting quite the show right about now.

Adrenaline was a hell of a thing. They'd been on the road for days, barely sleeping, fighting almost every day. They would both undoubtedly crash later, but right now both Dick and Tiger were thrumming with restless energy that desperately needed a release. Sex fit the bill just fine.

Tiger pulled sharply on Dick's hair, arching his back off the hood of the car. Dick, just to be a shit, slammed Tiger's hips back down, easing the man's cock down his throat. He swallowed around it, digging his nails into Tiger's skin as the man shuddered beneath him.

They had barely touched each other outside of combat in days. There hadn't been time. Honestly, Dick shouldn't have been surprised by this turn of events. They both knew it was coming. Literally.

A combination of adrenaline, exhaustion and starvation of touch knocked Tiger over the edge in a matter of minutes. Dick massaged circles into his hips as he rode out his orgasm, until Tiger fell limp against the hood of the car.

Dick kissed his stomach. “Better?”

Tiger laughed, a little breathless, and smoothed down Dick's hair. “Yes. Your turn.”

“Need a minute?”

Tiger scoffed and rolled Dick onto his back. “No.”

“If you say so.”

Tiger settled between Dick's legs, pressing his lips against his erection, still trapped in his underwear.

“ _Shit_.” Dick's fingernails bit into his palms. “I'm out of clean underwear, T. Might want to ease off on that until we find a washing machine.”

“If you insist.” Tiger dragged Dick's underwear down to his thighs.

One of the men on the ground twitched. Dick sat up and hurled an escrima at his head, knocking him back out. He raised his eyebrow at Tiger.

“At least an hour, huh?”

“He was one of mine,” Tiger replied.

Dick bounced his other escrima in his hand, trying to maintain his focus even while Tiger was sliding his fingers up and down his cock. “Who else was yours?”

Tiger pointed them out and Dick threw his escrima, managing a richochet to hit all three of them in quick succession. “Any more?”

“No, the rest were yours.” Tiger fetched the escrima, just in case, before lifting Dick's legs over his shoulders. Dick couldn't watch the man's lips close around the head of his cock. He lifted his eyes to the sky, watching puffs of clouds streak across the blue, until he could breathe again.

Tiger's fingers dug dimples into his ass. Everyone Dick had ever been with had done that at one point or another. He'd stopped questioning it a long time ago. There were bigger mysteries in the world, and it wasn't like he didn't enjoy the attention.

Tiger moved his tongue just the right way, forcing out a spasm throughout Dick's body.

“Ffff _uck_. Do that again.”

Tiger repeated the motion. Dick couldn't hold back a shout _and_ his orgasm at the same time, so his voice reverberated through the open air around them. It had been way too long since he'd last gotten off and now his self-control was almost completely shattered. But he was still in the game. He couldn't come yet. That wouldn't satisfy him.

Tiger took him deeper, locking his eyes on Dick's. He liked doing that, liked watching Dick unravel before his eyes.

Tiger lifted one hand from Dick's ass, ghosting along Dick's balls, almost invisible beneath Tiger's chin. But Dick could feel it. He could _definitely_ feel it.

“This is gonna be a short blowjob,” he said, sitting up on his elbows. Tiger didn't bother replying. Neither of them wanted to stop. Tiger pushed him back down, splaying his fingers under Dick's shirt, sweeping huge circles down his abdomen, resting over his belly button.

Dick desperately wanted to kick off his shoes, rip off his clothes and have Tiger fuck him until he couldn't walk anymore. But they didn't have the time right now. They'd have to find a safehouse later because a blowjob wasn't going to tide him over for long. He wanted the whole damn package. And a bed. Under a roof. Hell, he wouldn't say no to a few candles or rose petals, either. But being indoors on a mattress was an absolute necessity at this point.

Fantasising wasn't doing him any favours. He had to fight back another orgasm— _not yet not yet—_ and thought he was going to pass out from the effort. Tiger kept watching him, cheeks hollowing and filling again as he broke Dick down.

Dick's fingers scrambled for purchase on the hood of the car, finding nothing but rust, until he gave up and tightened his thighs around Tiger's head to keep from sliding off.

Tiger did that damn thing with his tongue again, leaving Dick gasping for air.

“Not gonna...” He could barely talk. “I can't...”

He could see the mischief sparkling in Tiger's eyes as his tongue moved one last time, his wicked fingers rubbing just the right place on Dick's balls. He couldn't hang on anymore.

He came hard, lights dancing in his vision, his whole body pulsing with force. Tiger swallowed around him, and Dick keened, smacking his head against the metal.

The loss of contact afterwards almost forced a whine out of him, as Tiger slid off the car to fix himself up. Dick closed his eyes, breathing hard, feeling like little more than a set of lungs and a heart and a cock, all of them pulsing and throbbing from the ordeal.

“Take your time,” Tiger said somewhere to his left. A rustle of fabric. A crinkle of a wrapper. “Hungry?”

“Mm-mm.” Dick couldn't force more than that out of his mouth right in that moment. He hummed a little of his song as he came back to himself, regaining enough awareness to zip up his pants. He lay there a little while longer, playing with the melody.

“...I may be mistaken,” Tiger said, “but I am thinking all the _singing_ may be more problematic than the pencil.”

Dick let his eyes slide open, watching Tiger take a bite of whatever snack he'd had the presence of mind to pack today. “Hmm, Tiger, Agent 1, my friend, you make a point.” Singing was fun enough by itself, but the fact it had driven Tiger to distraction at the same time had easily made it his favourite pastime of the past few weeks. “How many have we done?” The men were still knocked out, mercifully.

“Many,” Tiger replied.

“How many to go?”

“Eh, not as many.” Tiger leaned back a little, eyes far away in thought. The dark circles under his eyes were impossible to miss.

“You look tired,” Dick said quietly.

“As do you.” That was fair.

Dick slid off the car. “What do you think? The Manila one next?”

Tiger put away the remainders of his snack. “Why not?”

“Please tell me we're taking the tank.”

“We are taking the tank. Get in.”

“Can I drive?”

“No.”

“You're no fun.”

“I am plenty of fun,” Tiger replied, digging out the keys, which he must've stolen from one of their opponents somewhere between the fight and when he accosted Dick on top of the car. “I can be fun tonight, if you wish.”

“Saving up your fun reserves?”

“Maybe.”

“All right.” Dick climbed into the car-tank-thing. “You're on.”

They both needed a break. Probably a year-long vacation, really. But a night would do for now.


End file.
